


Even Ground

by skamander



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Gen, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1481089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamander/pseuds/skamander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Will Graham hears Hannibal Lecter speak Lithuanian is the last time his heart breaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a submission to hannigram.com on tumblr.
> 
> Apologies for my Lithuanian. I used Google Translate.

Will Graham's knuckles rapped twice against the heavy wooden door to Dr. Hannibal Lecter's office. One would have sworn the knock coincided perfectly with the clock striking 7:30 p.m. 

Will was just in time for his second appointment since his release from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane and he was eager to continue the game he'd begun in his first visit. His hair was carefully combed back, he wore a v-neck sweater that cut down just a kiss more than proper. He finished off his wardrobe for the day with crisp slacks, a coat folded over his arm and shoes that shined just so. 

To his surprise, Dr. Lecter wasn't there to open the door exactly five seconds after he knocked. Will knocked again. 

1... 

2... 

3... 

4... 

5...

Still no answer. 

With an apprehension that settled somewhere just under his ribs, Will tried the knob. The room was silent and appeared empty upon Will's entrance. But a soft mumble to his left revealed the doctor prone on the pale green velvet couch. Awareness of his surroundings evaporated with each step Will took towards Dr. Lecter, rising like smoke from his feet to coil around his ankles and escape through the crack under the door. 

Will stopped just short of the couch and gazed at the way the doctor's limbs draped across the green velvet. One leg rested across the armrest while the other was bent up against it. Will's eyes traveled up to find Dr. Lecter's right hand over his chest and the other laying by his side. His face, with its sharp peaks and smooth planes was even with sleep, save for a single line between his brows. Will pressed his thumb to his index finger to keep from reaching up and smoothing it away. 

Dr. Lecter breathed in a way that seemed to Will unique to him. Like he could hear the doctor's voice in it. Like he could identify it amongst a thousand different breaths. Like he could taste it in the back of his throat. And it tasted like fire. 

Will suddenly realized he stood like a patron of a museum admiring a piece of art, a sculpture by a master of marble, long since dead. And perhaps, maybe, he in fact was. 

He knew he should leave. 

But he didn't. Because at that moment, Hannibal's left hand gripped at the cushion beneath him and his chest rose quickly with a sharp intake of breath. His forehead creased and a pained mumble came from his lips. 

Will felt something frozen in his chest crack and crumble away. Before he could stop himself, he was sitting on the couch and placing his palm over Hannibal's clenched fingers. He watched in disbelief as tears rolled down the doctor's cheeks and for a second, Will wondered if he himself was dreaming. And a sick desire overcame him to bend down and catch the tears on the tip of his tongue, like they were snowflakes, each unique and fleeting. 

Instead, Will reached up with his other hand to carefully thumb each tear away and cup the doctor's jaw.  _Stop it_ , he told himself. He shouldn't be comforting the man who'd framed him for several murders and painted his mind with shadows from the minute they met. He should be punching him square in the nose and throwing him in jail. He  _should_. 

But he wasn't.

Hannibal spoke under his breath again and Will realized it was in another language. 

"Ne, Mischa, neik. _Prašau_ _._ " 

He was pleading. Though the words were watered with tears, they struck Will directly in his heart, chipping away all ice and coating its shattering remnants with honey. 

Hannibal's hand turned to grip Will's and he was audibly sobbing, repeating the same thing in what must be his native tongue over and over again. 

Will's hand crept from Hannibal's jaw to his mouth. _Fuck. STOP_ , he screamed at himself, but his body paid no heed. He pressed the tips of his fingers to the doctor's lips. "Shh...." 

Before Will could even take his next breath, Hannibal's hand came up to grasp Will's wrist in a cool vise. Will found his eyes penetrated by Hannibal's maroon gaze. But the doctor's eyes were wild, unseeing--like a creature escaped from hell, and Will knew Hannibal was still asleep. 

Hannibal's other hand came up to hold Will's face. "Mischa..." he whispered like they were two people hiding from the devil himself. "Tu nepaliksi manęs?"

Will's breath caught in his lungs and his heart pounded so hard, he felt it in his fingertips. Hannibal didn't even blink, he waiting anxiously for an answer. But Will didn't have one for him. What was he supposed to say to this man who'd suddenly become this broken little boy right in front of him? 

Acting almost on instinct, Will gently shook his head in the cradle of Hannibal's hand. 

Hannibal smiled. And it wasn't like any smile Will had seen on Hannibal's face. It was the smile of a small child. A smile of true contentment. It was all the things a smile should be.  

And then his eyes were slipping closed again, his hands falling from their hold on Will. 

For the longest moment, Will just sat there staring at Hannibal's now serene face. Then he leaned down. And all of the protesting in his head was silent this time. Will placed a soft kiss on Hannibal's forehead. He didn't know exactly why. Was it a kiss from Mischa, who ever she was? Or was it, in fact, a kiss from Will himself--saying a final goodbye to his best friend before the beginning of the end? 

Hannibal groaned. He was starting to wake. 

Will stood and exited the office, closing the door behind him. He didn't realize he had tears in his eyes until he sat down in the waiting room. He blinked them away. It wouldn't do to cry now. 

He took in a cool breath that iced his heart over once more.

A moment later there was a rustle inside the office. A moment more and Will stood. He knocked twice on the office door. 

1... 

2... 

3... 

4... 

5... 

The door opened to reveal a perfectly immaculate Dr. Lecter. He didn't frown or seem apprehensive, but he didn't exactly smile as he usually did. 

"May I come in?" Will asked. 

Dr. Lecter glanced at his watch."You are a little late, Will." 

"My apologies," Will acknowledged with a nod. "It won't happen again." 

The doctor stepped back to allow Will to enter. 

They took their usual seats. Their eyes met. Nothing was out of place save for the slightly red waterline of Dr. Lecter's eyes. Hannibal knew Will could see it, and if he was aware of what had taken place between them, he said nothing.

Neither did Will. And nor would he. He would carry that event in silence to the very end. 

Because he'd kissed that fragile, sobbing creature goodbye forever. 

And he would win this game on even ground. 

Will continued to look into Dr. Lecter's eyes and finally spoke. "Where shall we begin?"

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (Thank you Evie for the help!)
> 
> Ne, Mischa, neik. Prašau. -- No Mischa, don't go. Please.
> 
> Tu nepaliksi manęs? -- You won't leave me?


End file.
